Mistakes We Knew We Were Making
by saradelovely
Summary: Baby drizzle never happened.
1. and all our sins come back to haunt us

Seventy dollars worth of pregnancy tests later, I finally push aside my denial and accept I'm pregnant. It's a quiet acceptance, almost a resignation of sorts. I sit on the edge of the bathtub, and gently rub the first one with my fingers. It's there, two pink lines across the white surface. _Pregnant_. I outlined my future on my notebook with very specific goals, and having a baby wasn't a goal at sixteen. Come to think of it, I can't remember if it's even on there. I'm not even sure if I _want_ children. I've never considered myself as maternal, as a mother.

I put my head in my hands, restlessly running my fingers through my hair. I'm not sure what to make of the whole situation. _Obviously_, I'm pregnant and I can't imagine having an abortion. That terrifies me more than _actually_ having a baby. I can't see myself giving up the baby for adoption but I _also_ can't see myself becoming a mother at sixteen. That's frightening and I have no idea how my fathers will react. They've tried _so_ hard to raise me the proper way and I can't help but feel as if I've disappointed them, somehow. I don't even know what's going to happen to my dreams, to my goals for the future. This, this _baby_, has thrown everything off the equilibrium.

I don't even know how to tell the father, or if I even should. We're not in a relationship, and I don't think that he's even interested in one. Truth be told, I'm a little worried about him becoming a father to the baby, should I keep it. Then again, he may not even _want _to acknowledge the baby. We just happened, and it wasn't planned. Well. Thinking over that sentence in my head, _nobody _plans to have a baby at sixteen. I've dug myself quite a hole here. I have to schedule myself an appointment, determine how far along the pregnancy is before I make any firm decisions.

I'm too preoccupied with my ricocheting thoughts to notice the doorbell ringing until my father, Alan, knocks on my bathroom door, telling me someone is downstairs. I get a little worried and am puzzled at the unannounced visitor, throw all my pregnancy sticks into the bathtub and walk, not run (running may not be the best thing for the baby), downstairs.

"Hey, Finn. What are you doing here? I didn't know we had plans to rehearse. Is everything okay?" I start to ramble on because I'm a little nervous, and he's eying me weirdly.

"We didn't, really. I decided to stop by after Glee Club to see how you're feeling. You looked a little green during rehearsal and I became worried when you didn't answer your phone earlier."

"It's probably just the stomach flu that's been going around lately but I appreciate the visit. I think I may have left my phone in the car but I could use the company if you want to stay." Given my current situation, I decide it may be a good idea to let him stay. He nods and starts talking off his jacket and shoes, declining my offer of a beverage or snacks, and following me upstairs to my room.

Normally, I don't allow boys into my room, _except_ the one time I broke that rule and ended up pregnant. I'm _already _pregnant, and can't get pregnant a second time so I figure nothing else negative can come of this.

Wandering inside my room, he trips on the carpet, landing on my incomplete poster for the English project drying on the floor. When he stands up, I giggle since he's covered in glitter and glue.

"I'll be right back. I have to wash this before it stains." Finn stands up, hitting his head on my ceiling light, and wanders off into my bathroom. Less than thirty seconds later, he walks out holding one of my tests. He looks at me.

_Oh, shit._


	2. in the end to hang around

He sat down next to me on the bed, holding the pregnancy stick as if was made of glass. His hands hold it, without putting additional pressure on the flat surface, and I'm too nervous to look at him, to say _anything_.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked softly, finally putting the stick on top of the cabinet next to my desk.  
I shake my head and he stays quiet. Sensing my increasing panic, his hands move over to mine, grasping them in my lap.

"What about the father? Does he know?"  
"I don't want to tell him. I would prefer if he wasn't involved, as I could imagine his parenting skills are debatable. Also, I haven't reached a decision as to how I want to proceed with _this_." I can't explain to Finn that it just happened, it just _happened. _It's not as if I slept with the father because I thought this would be an appropriate time to raise a child, and he was the best fit for my unfertilized eggs. I slept with him because his hands moved over me like I was made of glass, and his kisses breathed life into me.

Finn gives out a snort and a small smile escapes my lips. I'm staring at the carpet and tracing my left foot in a circle.  
We fall back into silence, until he breaks it.

"I don't want you to go through this alone, whatever you decide to do." I'm afraid to look up at him.  
"What about Quinn? She isn't going to be thrilled about this, and the two of you won't get back together. And your family, and the other reasons." My voice drops into a whisper, finally trailing off.  
"It's okay. Then, we're not meant to be. I think its more important I'm here for you and what you're going through than worry about a girl who broke up with me, you know?" I wonder if he notices his fingers are circling my ring finger.

I don't say anything, I'm stunned that he would willingly do this for me, he would give up his role in the social hierarchy. I open my mouth, fully intent on declining his offer, when I burst into tears and fling myself into his shoulders.  
He kisses my head as I climb into his lap, and sit there weeping, rubbing my back gently.

"We're not meant to be, _either_," I mumbled into his shirt. He doesn't say anything in response, for which I'm grateful. This may not be the best time to discuss our feelings. We sit there like that for the longest time, until I'm tired out and he puts me to bed, covering me with blankets and covers, and sits down next to me.

"You should get some rest." His eyes look worried, almost as if they're reflecting mine.

"I haven't done my homework or prepared a MySpace video, or warmed my voice for the rigorous training exercises." Not that I care about any of these things at the present time but I have to maintain some kind of appearance of my daily ritual.

His hand rubs my forehead, and I sniffle.

"You need rest more than that," mumbling that as he crawls into bed next to me. Finn covers me with his body, and I drift off to sleep. My eyes feel tired, and I have a heavy head. I'm at a loss at what tomorrow will bring.


	3. to tap us on the shoulder, smile silent

I woke up blurry eyed the next morning, the sunlight streaming through my blinds, with Finn drooling on my shoulder, and when I turned around to look at him, I _almost_ forgot why he was laying there to begin with. For a long time, he was everything I wanted when I joined Glee. His goofy grin and his lanky build was the highlight of my day until one day, they weren't, I stopped having romantic feelings towards him. And now, he's here. As a _surrogate_ father. This is surreal.

I stared at him for a while, still in awe that he was _actually_ going to do this with me, that he was actually still _here_. When he opened his eyes, after I don't know _how_ long, he mumbled a sleepy good morning. I rolled over on my back so I could look at the ceiling, mirroring his positioning, and I feel his eyes looking at me expectantly.

"So, I slept on it, you know, _it_, and I came to the conclusion that the best thing to do, at this point anyway, would be to visit a doctor, and make sure I'm actually pregnant. I thought I would give her a call in an hour when they open, and see if she's available to see me on such short notice."

He kissed my forehead. "That's cool, I wasn't too excited about attending school, anyway. Let's get breakfast in the meantime." I shake my head. He's _always_ thinking of food. He climbs out of my bed, hitting the lamp _again_, and goes to the bathroom. I decide to crawl from under the covers to go downstairs, to take out the ingredients for breakfast while I brush my teeth.

As we're sitting eating my crunchy French toast, I excuse myself to go make the phone call. My hands tremble when I call, nearly dropping the phone. I'm _nervous_. After a couple of minutes, I wander back to Finn, who stopped playing with his food long enough to look at me and he stares at me with his eyebrows raised, waiting for my response.

"So, I was able to get through to the doctor. She said she had an early morning cancellation so she can fit us in." He gives me a weak smile and I wonder if he feels like I feel right now, like he's trying to hold down the wave of vomit inside.

He chatters aimlessly in the car, attempting to ease my anxiety and to fill the sound of the awkwardness in the car. After a couple of turns, he runs out of things to say. He taps his fingers on the steering wheel nervously, and I find myself calmed to the motion, losing track of the time until we pull into the parking lot. The parking lot looks deserted, except for a handful of cars, and Finn and I just stare out our windows, respectively.

He's the first to speak. "I guess we're here." I nod and take a giant gulp of air. I try to figure out how to breathe again. Exhale _inhale_. Inhale _exhale. _I open the car door, and throw up on the side as Finn rubs my back. We're the second ones there, next to a women holding a bouncing baby boy who keeps dropping his pacifier. I'm fascinated by his movements, how tiny his hands are and how he seems to be holding on to his mother. I wonder if my baby would do the same. I'm in such a trance that I don't notice Finn snapping his fingers at me, trying to get my attention.

"Rach, it's your turn." He holds out his hand, and I grab it, holding on for dear life, he's my raft in this ocean right now. My legs feel like jelly, and I don't even _like _jelly.

When we walk into the room, I get settled and the doctor walks in. She has kind eyes, which fills me with calming thoughts. She mistakenly refers to Finn as the father, and neither of us are in the mood to correct her. And anyway, for now, he _is _the father, whether by blood or not. She sends me out with the nurse to take a pregnancy test, and when I come back, she isn't there anymore. Finn tries to distract me, and starts poking at me with one of the instruments left behind and I let out a small giggle. I'm relieved to find I can still laugh.

When the doctor comes back, the laughs in my throat die out.

"You're about ten weeks along. You're going to be a mother." The doctor and I just stare at each other, and I'm wondering how this could have happened, and why we, the _father _and I weren't more careful, and all these thoughts are racing through my head. I feel like I'm going a hundred miles an hour. After we leave the examining room, and go back to the receptionist to schedule a follow-up appointment, I take out my credit card when she informs me how much my visit cost. Before I could get a chance, Finn waves my hand away, and gives her his. He doesn't have a job, and I have _no_ idea where he would have gotten the money.

Grabbing my hand to lead me out the door, I'm a little afraid to mention the doctors' visit but he doesn't press, he doesn't mention it and I try to sweep it under the rug. I'm not sure how to even bring up the subject. After we get into the car, I notice he's going to drive me home, back home where I could be surrounded by my thoughts all day. This does _not_ sound appealing in the slightest.

"Uh, Finn. If you don't mind, I'd actually like to go back to school." He nods and he turns his car around.

When we get there, he helps me out of the car, holding my hand and curling my body around his.

"You ready?" He murmurs into my hair, touching the strands aimlessly.

"No." I giggle again, giggle to keep the tears at bay.

And he laughs at me, flicking my nose.

"Let's go inside."


	4. it's all implied

I narrowed my eyes when I saw Hudson walk hand in hand with Berry. He's been broken up with Quinn, that fine piece, for a week and already, he wasted no time moving onto Berry. I don't know what he sees in that Gleek freak, anyway. Sure, those short skirts of hers are pretty kinky, especially when she bends, they do a little _whoosh_ but nobody moves on from Quinn to Rachel. Not in public anyway. Downgrade, Finn. Downgrade.

I make my way over to the happy couple, holding a beautiful slushie. I was going to use it on Berry this morning, since Grape is her favorite, but seeing her walk in with my best friend changes things. Not by much, but enough that I can't slushie her this morning. I throw it out in the trash, disgusted with myself for ruining a good slushie. This is going to stick with me for the rest of the day.

I lean against Finn's locker, waiting for him to grab his shit so we could walk to first period Spanish together and I could pester him for details on the new squeeze, but he never walks over here. His eyes flick in my direction after I see him drop Berry off in her homeroom, but we don't look at each other long, and he walks right back out. Since when does he cut? Fuck this shit. Now I have to go follow him out. Better hope his lucky stars that Slyvester doesn't see us leaving school grounds. Last time she did, I had to run fifty laps in the rain. If I go down, I'm taking Hudson to do these laps right down with me.

I jog up to him a quarter of the way into the parking lot. If he moved this quick during games, maybe we'd actually win some. I call his name repeatedly but he makes no move to turn around until I grab his arm.

"What's up with the girl, Hudson? You and Fabray break up a week ago and already you're tapping Berry? You realize how that looks to everyone, right?"

"Mind your own business, Puck. This doesn't concern you." I'm astounded, and actually, a little concerned by his balls. He never talks back, that kid. He's always with that smile of his and singing about rainbows and shit. That's why we're best friends. He's so mellow all the time, evening me out.

"Dude, I just asked what's up with the girl. Quit being so defensive. I'm your best friend, remember? I just want to know what's going on."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. It's been a rough day. Sorry, man. But really, I can't talk about it. It's just this whole thing and really, it's Rachel's and I don't want to mess her up by opening my mouth. I'll see you later." He gets in his car and just drives off, leaving me with my mouth agape, saying what the _fuck_. What whole thing he is even talking about? Figures he'd get himself into some kind of trouble and I'm going to have to bail him out.

I have to proceed onto my next option, which is slightly more complicated, since Berry and I choose to never talk to each other. It's a choice that's worked well for us, with some exceptions when we broke it. I make my way back into the building, narrowly avoiding the security guard. Despite not attending math class in two years, I know we share that class so I saunter in, feeling everyone's eyes on me.

The teacher looks at me, confused at this new development. "And who are you?"

"Noah Puckerman. I attend this class." I sit in the empty seat next to Berry, and prop my feet up on the chair in front of me, causing the teacher to roll her eyes, turning around to go back to whatever she was doing on that board.

"Sup, Berry?" I whisper over to her as her expression turns to bewilderment, and she looks around the room.

"Are you talking to me?" God, she's an idiot. Of course I'm talking to her. How many Berry's are there in this class?

"Yeah. Obviously, unless you know another Berry. Let's chat."

"Am I on hidden camera? Or being Punked? There has to be a reason for your sudden desire for conversation. Take that desire and swallow it. I'm not in the mood for your games today." I don't understand why she's making things difficult, or why she even had to mention the word swallow. I'm attempting to carry on a civil conversation, and now I'm picturing her swallowing instead. Focus, Puckerman. Focus.

"Why? Did Hudson wear you out last night?" A flash of panic flies through her eyes, leaving as quickly as it came. _Bingo_. I smirk.

"It's okay if you tell me. I _already_ know how good you can be. I'll ask him later, find out how he rates you. I guess you'd rate higher than Quinn. They've never gone that far. Did you sleep with him to compare us? Or was it so you can be the first to touch the rainbow?"

Her hand shoots up, as she asks to be excused. Figures she'd try to escape my questioning. She can't take the heat.

I give the teacher a wink and follow Berry out of the room.

"We're not finished here." I grab her elbow to stop her from running.

"Yes, we are. Get your Neanderthal paws off me. I asked to be excused from Calc for a reason, and that reason was you. I'm leaving. Move out of my way."

She looks kinda green while I'm holding her arm. I let go because I don't want to be responsible for throwing up all over me because I held on too long. But I don't move out of her way.

"You realize he just broke up with Quinn, right? You're just the rebound. Don't get too used to him. He'll get back with Quinn sooner or later, and you'll be dumped on your ass."

"You're misinterpreting my friendship with Finn. He's being a friend to me during a very difficult situation in my life right now. He is being supportive and kind, and helping me deal. That's all there is to it, and obviously being friends with a girl is not something you can understand, considering you don't have any platonic relationships with females."

I narrow my eyes at the last remark. She has a point, but I choose to disregard her rambling and focus on the situation at hand.

"What kind of difficult situation? How hard can your life be, Berry?"

"Mind your own business. You don't know the first thing about me." I roll my eyes at her attempts to be badass. Her life is so pristine, it kills me. She's tapping her foot, which she only does when she's nervous. Good. It means I'm closer to cracking what's going on.

"Get real, Berry. You order boxes of stars from the internet. Your main concern in life is school, Glee, and focusing how to get on Broadway. Your dads love you, and get you everything. You live in a fancy house with a maid, and you've never had to work a day in your life. Admit it. You don't live like us mortals do."

I may have gone too far when I realize she's blinking back tears, and when she stomps on my foot, and scurries off into the nearest girls bathroom. I'm left standing there, wondering what the hell has gotten into everyone. I still haven't gotten to the bottom of anything and I have nothing better to do, it's not like I'm going to attend class so I sigh, and follow her into the bathroom.


	5. you'll die trying to live this down

I walk into the bathroom, not bothering to knock, to see Berry leaning over the porcelain sink, clutching it for dear life. I just stand there, looking at her heaving her intestines, turning on and off the faucet to dispose of the evidence. I don't know what to say, I don't normally prey on the weak like this. Not when they're vomiting all over school property. At least it's not on my shoes. She opens her mouth first.

"Stomach flu, nothing serious. This is the girls bathroom. Given your record at this school, it's not in your best interests to be caught in here. Nor is it in my best interests for someone to walk in and see me with you. You should leave before someone sees you in here and lodges a formal complaint. Go on, carry on with your day."

I stay silent, ignoring her various hand gestures towards the door, and attempt to find some mean-spirited comeback I could shoot back. Words fail me, so I try being considerate.

"Are you okay?" I'm not sure why I'm asking, and her eyes are shrouded in surprise.

"I'm fine. Stop acting like you care. You should leave. You don't want to be here anyway. "

"I'm not that heartless, Berry. Plus, if I leave and you die in here all alone, it'll be my fault that I left you instead of helping you and then your dads will sue me, and I'd have to spend the rest of my life working for free." I'm starting to feel a little guilty for our scene in the hallway, and start debating if I should apologize or not. I decide against it, not wanting to show weakness this early in the game.

"Nobody will know you were here because nobody saw you in here but me, and if I'm dead, then there's no one I can tell. Unless I haunt the bathroom like Moaning Myrtle." Damn. She got me there. Smart ass.

"Moaning Myrtle? What?"

She offers up a grunt, not even bothering to acknowledge my question with syllables. I watch as she starts rummaging in her bag, pulling out a plastic toothbrush, a small box of toothpaste, and Listerine tablets.

"Holy shit, Berry. What else do you carry in your bag?"

"Mind your own business. Don't act like you're doing me a favor by staying," she squeaks out while brushing her teeth. She barely finishes going over her teeth when she grabs her stomach, going back to vomiting over the sink. She hiccups for a couple of minutes when she's done, takes a breath before trying to wash her face and brush her teeth at the same time.

"Stomach flu, really? You sure it's the stomach flu?" I raise an eyebrow at her and notice she refuses to look me in the eye, almost as if I'm responsible for this mess she's in.

"I went to the doctor this morning. Stomach flu. It's been going around a lot lately. A lot of people have caught it. You should be careful in catching it because then you can't play football because it weakens your immune system and if you have a weak immune system, you'll get too tired to play and then we may never win a football game this year."

"That was a pretty long run-on sentence, Berry. Take a breath. "

Oddly enough she takes my advice, and I watch her inhale and exhale several times.

"I appreciate the concern for my welfare, didn't think you cared too much about me. Or football, really." I wait for an answer and I'm only greeted with sniffles.

"Are you crying? You look like you're crying."

She sniffles. "Allergies."

"Allergies and the stomach flu? You've got to be kidding me." I don't believe a single word coming out of her mouth.

She shakes her head. "Please give my apologies to Mr. Schuester and the Glee kids. Unfortunately, I made an error in judgment today, in coming to school. I don't feel well enough to be here."

"If you're not going to Glee, neither am I. Let's go, Berry. I'll give you a ride. Make sure you don't die on your way home."

"How considerate of you. I'm going to be fine. I don't need you babysitting me."

"You have to come with me. You don't have your car with you today." Shit. I shouldn't have said that.

She blinks at me. "How do you know that?"

"Because you came in Finn's car, and the genius blew off his classes, leaving you high and dry." Whew, good save.

"I'll call Finn."

"He won't make it in time to pick you up before anybody sees you. Face it, you're stuck"

"Fine. Hurry up before the bell rings. I'd prefer if no one saw me leaving. This will ruin my impeccable attendance record and dull my transcript."

I roll my eyes at her bossiness but follow her lead out the door, anyway, holding her elbow to support her wobbling.


	6. you might as well forget it

Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait on this chapter. It hasn't been as heavily reviewed as my other one, so I've let it fall by the way side. This is part a present/flashback scene.

It started at a party, the way all mistakes do. Santana Lopez was throwing a killer party to support their win at Sectionals, and everyone from Glee and the football team was there. She was popular, people made it their business to show up to her events.

Rachel didn't have much to drink that night but she was a lightweight, so whether one bottle or two, she felt it everywhere. Puck kissed her that night, somewhere between a wine cooler and a haze of smoke. He tastes of lazy tobacco and peppermint, a difficult combination to pull off but he does. He drove her home, the alcohol not taking a hold of him. His liver is infinite. Later, she'll remember how they made it upstairs to her room in time, how quiet they tried to be to not wake her fathers.

He carries her to bed, intent on kissing her good night, leaving her to her hangover, but even the best laid plans go awry. She grabbed a fistful of his shirt, and leaned him into her, and one thing led to another.

His hands move up the edges of her body, starting at the hip bone and his touch seeps through her cool skin, and she can feel it everywhere. When his hands roam her back, brushing past skin, goosebumps flood through every bone. That's how much he hurts, she feels it to the depths of her bones.

She wonders if this is normally how it is, if it's normally this exhilarating.

The morning greets them with each other, hands intertwined in the middle of the night, and the smell of sex enveloping her in the sheets. The night before wasn't discussed in the aftermath. She watched him leave, the moment was gone, anyway.

"Do you ever think about that night?"

Rachel looks over at him, her breath inhaling sharply. His words knocked her out of her flashback, and she felt like a fool, wondering what other words of his she missed. She doesn't tell him that before, even before, she found out that she was pregnant, all she _does_ is think about that night.

She wonders if it's best to lie, until she realize he's staring at her, staring at her like maybe he thinks about it all the time too.

"Yes." Her words come out in a whisper, and she turns away again, her head leaning against the windshield. Time passes them, likely minutes, and she decides it's time to leave his car before the conversation takes a route she doesn't want.

"Thanks for the ride." She hops out, accidentally slamming the door behind her.

"Berry, wait up." I yelled at her, unsure of why I was asking her to turn around.

She pauses on the middle of the sidewalk, and I notice how difficult it is for her to look me in the eyes. She stares at the birthmark on my chin, and I'm unsure.

"Were you planning on telling me you're pregnant?" I fidget. I'm always prepared, nobody wants a baby at sixteen, least of all me. Girls try to corner me into fatherhood all the time, until a negative pregnancy test gets them off my back. But Berry, Berry hiding the prospect of fatherhood bothers me. I thought her, her of all people, would make mention of it.

She shakes her head, her mouth shaping into a small _o_ in surprise, surprised I figured it out.

"You're off the hook. You don't have to be responsible for a child you didn't plan for, a child you don't want. It's fine. Finn is going to help me." Just like that, she turns on her heel, leaving me on the sidewalk, alone. I feel the first waves of jealous at the mention of Finn, and my child, and wonder why I'm not as happy as I should be.


	7. still, i'm convinced, wondering what if

Author's Note: As the story progresses, the chapters will get longer. Thank you for all of the alerts/reviews. I wish there was more though :( I'm curious to see what direction you want me to take with this story.

I leaned against the door, breathing heavily and my arm clutching my stomach to slow my heart rate. I can't believe he figured it out, I'm not even sure how he did. I jump when I hear knocking behind me, and I tentatively open the door. Puck is standing there, hands in his pockets.

"Can I come in?" His voice is so soft, I'm almost afraid I misheard him.

"Now isn't the best time, Puck. I want to get some rest. I'm exhausted, and I feel a cold coming on, and I'm pretty sure my vocal cords are damaged. Not to mention I feel fat."

He looks at me, an eyebrow raised. "So, I can come in then?" I sigh, and lean my forehead against the frame of the door.

"Fine. Make it quick. I'm giving you several minutes and then it's over, you have to leave."

He walks in, glancing around my home. His eyes take everything in, and I want to ask what he thinks, but then I realize he's Puck, and aside from this, this mess we've tangled ourselves into, his opinion is irrelevant.

"Would you like something to drink?" Just because I don't want him here doesn't mean I should be a poor hostess. My dads taught me better than that. Oh god. I can't even begin to comprehend how I'll tell them what happened.

He shakes his head, and he opens and closes his mouth several times.

"Spit it out, Puck. I'm not in the mood for a fight." It comes out harsher than I meant it to, but the words roll off his shoulders.

"A baby, eh?" His eyes meet mine, and I'm trying to decipher his thoughts, failing miserably. He gives no outward display of what he thinks of the situation.

I nod and shrug my shoulders halfheartedly. "I didn't plan for it."

"I know. Nobody really plans a baby from a one night stand." Hearing that terminology provokes another wave of nausea to hit me, and I sit down on the living room chair, holding my stomach. I've never wanted to be that girl, to be in that situation, where I have one night stands. Now, I'm that girl and with a fertilized egg in my stomach.

"How did you know I was pregnant? It could have the stomach flu like I claimed." I attempt to compose myself, and feel myself failing.

He stays silent for several minutes, a pensive expression coloring his features.

"When I saw you in the bathroom, I just knew. You were throwing up, and you had this look in your eyes, like you were scared, and you're usually so in control, and I didn't see that control like I normally do. There's an air about you sometimes. Sometimes, it seems nothing can penetrate your defenses but it was different in there. That's when I figured it must be something serious."

"Oh." I'm at a loss for words, it's difficult to formulate sentences, speech isn't coming easily.

He fidgets on his feet, and I don't know what to make of the situation.

"So, Finn. You told him first." He looks slightly sad at this, sparking pangs of guilt.

"Not exactly. He stopped by and found the tests. He doesn't know who the father is, if that's what you're worried about. I'll keep your secret."

"Tests?"

I throw him a small smile. "I took around nine. I wanted to be sure."

He laughs. "That's cute."

I laugh slightly with him, until the feeling dies in my throat.

"I'm not worried about Finn finding out, you know. I just can't believe you're letting him take responsibility."

"He wanted to. He's being a friend right now."

He looks at me, his gaze sharpening as his eyes narrow. "Just a friend?" I feel slightly chilled at the tone in his voice.

"I don't have feelings for Finn, if that's what you're implying."

"You're letting him take responsibility for a baby that isn't his. What else do you want me to think?"

I begin to feel as though the room is stifling me, and suddenly, I just want him out of my house. Him and this baby that he's left me with.

"I think you should leave." The words come out in a whisper, and I'm afraid to hear the cracks in my voice.

"Leaving doesn't change anything, Berry. There will still be a baby when I walk out, and you'll still be the mother of my child." It just hits me, officially hits me.

"I don't even know if I want to keep the baby. I'm only sixteen. I'm sixteen and I'm pregnant, and I might have a baby I don't want, and the father hates me." I'm overcome by it all, and I burst into tears, cradling my head in my hands.

Halfway through my sobs, I see Puck sit down on the floor in front of me, putting his head on my lap.

"Hey, hey. I don't hate you. Occasionally, you make me want to set myself on fire but that's only occasionally." He tries to be cute, and this only makes me cry harder.

His hands reach up to cusp my face, his thumbs drying off the tears, and I subside into hiccups. I can't put him through this, even if I have to go through it with Finn, or by myself.

"I'm not telling anyone you're the father. I don't want to see your reputation take a hit because of this. Just go, and let's pretend this never happened. It's for the best."

He looks at me, his hurtful expression hits me to my bones, and walks out the door.

Locking the door, I wander upstairs into my room, and curl under the covers. This baby will need all of my energy, while I debate what to do.


	8. what if is the worst thing there is

Author's Note: I hope you all like it. As always, thanks for the reviews!

Curling up in bed, I move myself into the fetal position, similar to my baby's positioning inside me, and stare blankly at the inside of my covers. Eventually, I feel my eyes close, and I fall into a dreamless sleep.

I wake up a couple of hours later, my heart restless, there's only so many hours I can stay and lay in bed for. I slowly edge my way out of the bed, my feet slipping into slippers, and make my way down the stairs. I'm feeling a craving for brownies, my go to comfort food, and I'm positive I could find a mix downstairs.

I glance out the window in the living room, and there's a shroud of darkness covering the outside. I was definitely out for a couple of hours.

I walk into the kitchen, and nearly trip over my feet when I see Noah talking with my fathers, mixing the contents of his pot.

"Ah, pumpkin. There you are. I assume you've had plenty of rest, you've been out like a light for three hours now." My dad, Sam, plants a kiss on the side of my forehead and I smile weakly. My other dad, Max, shoots me a concerned look and I look away, unsure if I can keep my emotions at bay. Max has always been the better dad when it comes to deciphering my emotions. I give them both hugs, and purposely ignore Noah, muttering a greeting of acknowledgment.

"I wasn't feeling well in school so when I came home, I went straight to bed. I haven't even had time to catch up on my studies so I think I'm just going to see Noah out, and get to work."

"Oh, Noah's been helping us cook dinner while we get to know him. I think it's only fair he stays and enjoys the fruits of his labor. He came by after school while you were still asleep, worried about you."

I nod, and bite the inside of my cheek to keep my tongue from slipping out a careless remark, drawing blood. I walk over to the kitchen table, the plates already set, and sit down, eavesdropping on Noah's conversation with my fathers. He hasn't said a single word to me, much less looked at me, but I'm still standing and there hasn't been any yelling, so I assume he hasn't told them my, our, secret.

We all sit down to eat, the table is overfilled with more than enough food for three people. My dads continue to make small talk with Noah, but my head is so out of it, I don't bother to continue to listen. I scarf down my vegetables, and count the minutes until I can go back to sleep.

"So, Rachel. How do you and Noah know each other?"

I'm about to open my mouth, and explain to my dad we don't really know each other, we just have Glee and classes together, classes he never attends, when Noah beats me to it.

"We're dating, David. We've been together for a little over two months, though I'm sure Rachel would be able to give you an exact date. I'm sure you've seen her calender, and how color coded all the special events in her life are. We're going through a rough patch right now, hence the silent treatment Rachel has been giving me all day."

My dads look at me and beam, and I look at Noah, who's smiling at me, and if the ground underneath me could let me fall through, I think that would be amazing. That _ass. _

"Are you sexually active?" asks my dad, Max. Noah chokes on his water, and I smirk. Maybe if he didn't say we were dating, he wouldn't have to subject himself to my dads and their sex talk.

"I understand it's a difficult question to answer, especially to us, but it's an important subject to discuss if you plan on engaging in that in the future, if you haven't done so already." He continues his speech, and I feel my face turning redder with every word.

"While we advocate abstinence at your age, we're realistic enough to not make assumptions you won't be participating in sexual intercourse. Rachel is already on the pill, and I'm sure you'll use condoms as an extra layer of protection against STD's and unplanned pregnancies." chimes in Sam. I don't know if it's because of the growing baby inside of me, or the direction this talk is taking, but I'm hit by a wave of nausea, and clamp my hand over my mouth so I don't vomit over the dinner table.

"Are you alright?" Noah asks with a concerned expression, the worry emanating from his features.

"I just have a small bout of the stomach flu. It's been going around school recently, and I think it's finally made its way to me. There's nothing to worry about, it's nothing serious. And no, we're not sexually active."

My dads exchange looks, and I wonder if they believe me. Even if they do believe me, they're not going to believe me for long, not when I start showing.

"It's getting rather late so I should probably be leaving. I'd hate for my mother to start worrying. Thank you for having me, it was a pleasure." He sounds so polite, so _unlike_ Noah.

"It was wonderful meeting you, Noah. I can't believe Rachel has been hiding you from us all this time. You should come back another time for dinner, perhaps when she feels better."

Noah and I exchange glances, mutually wondering if there will be a next time.

"I'll be right back, I'm going to walk Noah to the door." I grab his hand, and pull him out of the kitchen into the foyer.

"What are you doing? This isn't a game, Noah." My words tumble out in whispers, I'm petrified my dads will overhear.

"I know this isn't a game. I'm the only one that isn't treating it as such. Get real, Berry. As if you weren't going to have Finn show up here in a couple of days, and create an elaborate story about your relationship with him. As if you weren't going to tell your dads how wonderful and fantastic he is, and how even if he got you pregnant, he's standing by your side because he loves you." He speaks in an angry tone, and I find myself at a loss for words. I thought he would be happy I took him off the hook.

"I didn't think that far ahead, to be honest."

"Maybe you should start."

I sniffle, and burst into tears. This day, this lying and this _everything_, is getting to be too much for me. I'm so tired of this responsibility, and it's just begun. He looks crestfallen that he hurt me, and he takes me into his arms, rubbing my back in circles and squares.

"Look, I appreciate you want to take me off the hook but maybe, maybe I don't want to be left off the hook, and I'll keep fighting for you and _it_, until you come to your senses." I bite my lip again, I've got to stop doing that, and thoughts of him being a father spiral in my head. Maybe getting Finn involved was a mistake.

I move away softly, and look at his face, and before I could think, I stand on my tip toes and kiss him. We stand like that, and his hands in my hair, and he's the first one to break away.

"What was that for?"

"I wanted to see if there are still fireworks."

He kisses my forehead, and gives me his last hug before walking out the door.

Later that night, after I've curled up in bed again, I hear my phone vibrating. I flip open my phone to read the midnight text.

_Pretty sure they're still there._


	9. Tired Talk, Better Days

Author's Note: The last chapter is definitely not the direction I wanted the story to go. I've already written the next two chapters, hopefully they'll be better than this one. Happy Holidays, everyone!

Rachel woke up the next morning, and saw the stormy clouds hovering outside her window. Shivering from more than the cold, she predicted today would be a bad day. She ponders sleeping in for the day but she doesn't want to cause her fathers any more worry, and there things to be done, things to be addressed. She gets dressed silently, careful not to wake her sleeping fathers, and she sneaks out the door to school. On her drive over, she replays yesterday on a loop and she realizes she has to make a decision about this baby _fast. _The clock is winding down, and abortion is an option she has to consider, regardless of her personal, not to mention, religious beliefs. She's never imagined herself having an abortion but she's also never imagined herself pregnant at sixteen. When she arrives at school, she notices Puck's car is already in the parking lot. She goes to look for him everywhere, she doesn't want yesterdays events hovering over her until Glee.

She walks up to Puck, surrounded by the football players and the cheerleaders, intent on talking to him about yesterday, how _maybe_ if he meant everything he said then maybe they could talk it out, they could find a solution to this growing situation. She taps her finger on his shoulder, and he turns around to look at her but he doesn't say anything. He's evidently looking everywhere but at her. She wonders what happened between last night and this morning, but then she sees Quinn's hand make its way into his, and when he doesn't let go, then she understands. He didn't mean a word of it, he never did.

She's disappointed by the change in personality, disappointed at him for his metamorphosis back into someone she doesn't like. This is why she didn't even want him to know she was pregnant, her baby should grow up with a father who's wonderful, and loves the mother. Love should be the requirement of any relationship. She doesn't mean to drift away to other topics so she shakes her head, focusing at the matter at hand.

"Can we talk?" This isn't how she meant to start the morning, surrounded by the upper level of the food chain, trying to talk to Puck. He doesn't say anything, and she wonders why she even bothered trusting him the day before. She wants to throw up her hands in disgust, but she doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing this is hurting her.

"I think you should leave, Man Hands. Obviously, you're not wanted." The coldness in Quinn's voice is noticeable, and Rachel wonders if she could hate her any more than she does at this moment.

Puck looks away uncomfortably, and says nothing. She's no longer surprised when he doesn't rush to her defense against his friends. She doesn't mean anything to him, the life growing in her or not.

Rachel blinks away tears, and turning around to leave, she sees Finn walk up to her, and intertwine his fingers with hers, much to Puck's dismay, and Quinn's horror. He leans his head down, and kisses Rachel on the side of her forehead, and wipes a rolling tear with his thumb.

Tugging at her hand, Finn shoots Puck and Quinn a dirty look.

"Come on, Rachel. I can think of one person who _always_ wants you around."

Rachel follows him away from the stares of the popular crowd, leaning her head into him. He walks away with her, his hand firmly on her waist, and she tries to steady her breathing. She made the right choice letting Finn stay with her, Finn would never hurt her.

The afternoon passes by like a broken clock, the ticking and tocking at a turtle's pace, and if it wasn't for Finn dragging her, _insisting_ she has to come to today's Glee, she would have gone home and cried in bed with some ice cream. She sits down in her usual seat in the front row, and folds her hands together. She doesn't make eye contact with Quinn and Puck when they walk into the room, her eyes planted firmly on the ground. She just wants this day to be over with.

"Mr. Schuester, if you don't mind, I'd like to sing. I've been practicing a song, and it would mean a lot to me to get someone's opinion on it."

Rachel glances at Finn when he speaks, and prays to the gods that he isn't going to sing a song for her.

Mr. Schuester looks at Finn weirdly, but motions for Finn to proceed to the front of the room. Sure enough, Finn takes a seat in front of Rachel, and while she appreciates his dedication to her and to staying in her life as the father, she doesn't believe this is an appropriate form of an expression. She doesn't hear the name of the song, and she doesn't hear much, even his voice, with the ringing in her ears.

Halfway through the chorus, the first wave of nausea hits Rachel, and she clamps her hand on her mouth to stifle the vomit. Finn, oblivious to life, continues singing, and the Glee kids exchange glances.

Kurt elbows Mercedes. "Looks like Rachel isn't enjoying her special performance."

Rachel grabbed her stomach, the second blanket of nausea overwhelming her, and raced out of the room to the nearest bathroom. Puck followed right after, much to the surprise of everyone else. Why would _Puck_ run after her?

Finn stared at the pair leaving the room. Looking around the room to a sea of shocked faces, he shrugged.

"Well, that isn't how I planned things to end."


	10. Delicate Like a Snowflake

Puck doesn't know why he hightailed it out of the room to follow her but he knew it was better than sitting in Glee Club, listening to Finn continue to warble. Really, did he have to sing to prove how wonderful he is? As if singing is relevant to raising a child. He searches the bathrooms on the floor, and he couldn't find her there, figuring she must have ran up to the one upstairs. He can't understand why, if she has to vomit her intestines, shouldn't she be at a closer location? He finds her, clutching the sink as she did the first day he followed her, and he walks over, pulling the hair out of her face.

She sniffles, and the sound is heartbreaking to his ears. Understanding she's crying more than about the vomit, he wants to explain about the morning. He didn't mean to hold onto Quinn's hand when she grabbed it, they're not together, he does want to be with her but she's so low at the social hierarchy, he's afraid. He's afraid of what this will do to him.

"I think you should leave. I don't think there's anything to be said with us anymore." Her voice cracks.

"But I meant what I said last night." He figured the morning, and the Quinn thing, would ruin everything. He just didn't realize the extent of the damage his silence would create in its wake.

Washing her face, she turns around to face him. "I don't believe any word that comes out of your mouth so you may as well save it for someone who cares, someone like Quinn."

"Quinn and I aren't dating." His own words sound feeble to his ears, and he wishes he was better at speaking.

"At this point, after that stunt you pulled this morning, it's irrelevant whether or not you're dating. I came up to you because I wanted to see if you meant any of the words you said last night, and then, you ignored me like I wasn't even there, like last night didn't even happen. Did you think you could treat me like that this morning, and I'd still want to talk to you, much less look at you? "

"I'm not dating Quinn. I can't explain why she grabbed my hand."

"Really? So you can't explain why you didn't let go either, right?"

He shrugs at the accusation in her tone. "What was I supposed to do? Let go and tell my friends I'm dating the Queen of the Gleeks? Or tell them, I had sex with the girl I slushied for a year and a half and got her pregnant? Which one do you prefer? Really, Berry?"

He sees the hurt in her eyes, and he knows _instantly_ that was the wrong thing to say.

"You can't even acknowledge me in public, and I'm carrying your child. How did you expect it to work when I started to show?"

"I would have told people eventually. I don't know. I didn't think that far ahead, really. I just thought, I don't know. You don't even want me to be a part of the baby's life. I didn't think one night between us would change anything. I don't see why you're angry." He plays stupid, wondering if it would solve anything.

She looks at him strangely. "One night, that one night is what got us into this mess. You and I know better than anyone right now that one night can change everything. You know exactly why I'm angry, why I'm upset. Don't play stupid, Puck. It doesn't suit you. Did you have a brain transplant between last night and this morning? Change of heart?"

"I didn't have a change of heart." He fidgets uncomfortably, and a look of apprehension dawns on her face.

"You don't want this be acknowledged in public because you're afraid of the damage it would do to your reputation. You'll take responsibility, but you'll do it behind the scenes. You don't want to admit that this is your baby, not to the walls of this high school."

Puck doesn't say anything, her words are speaking the truth he was afraid to speak. He looks away, at the background behind her, and he wonders why he can't be a better person.

"I'm right, aren't I? I'm _right_. That's why I picked Finn. Father or not, he wants to do the right thing, he'll stay with me like he _promised, _reputation be damned." Her voice is on the verge of hysteria and he feels the walls closing in around him.

"Whatever, Berry. You think you know me but you don't. You don't know anything."

With that he walks out, slamming the bathroom door, and Rachel bursts into tears.

In the middle of her hysterics, she doesn't hear one of the bathroom stalls open.

_also, please please don't hesitate to let me know if you're unhappy with the story or provide constructive feedback. happy holidays, everyone!_


	11. Don't Give Away the End

"Oh, that's _so_ cute, Man Hands. You're, like, crying real tears and everything."

Santana smirks, and Rachel feels a sinking feeling plummeting towards the bottom of her stomach. Out of all the possible people to be in the bathroom during her conversation with Noah, it _had_ to be Santana. Briefly, Rachel wonders if this is another cruel joke sent to her from the Gods.

"How much did you hear?"

The smirk on Santana's face doesn't falter, and the feeling inside Rachel's stomach worsens.

"Enough, really. Enough to understand the full story where Puck is the biological dad but you've replaced his role with Finn."

Rachel wipes away a stray tear with her sleeve and takes a deep breath.

"I'd like to think I could count on your discretion regarding this sensitive matter, _especially_ considering the participants involved."

"I don't think so, Man Hands. This isn't the type of secret that can stay secret for long."

"Please don't say anything. It has nothing to do with you. I know you're not one to provide favors of sorts but _please_."

Ignoring Rachel's comment, Santana narrows her eyes.

"I think I speak for everyone at this school, with the exception of you, of course, that we're a little curious to find how you slept with Puck. Normally, he doesn't venture far from the cougar chain, me being his only exception."

"It just happened." Rachel's voice comes out in a whisper, and she feels terrified, wishing frantically there was an escape route in the bathroom. Besides the door Santana's blocking.

"Oh, come off it. Nothing _just_ happens."

"It's true," she says weakly.

"You're barely anything at this school, Man Hands. I don't believe that Puck would have sex with you, much less look at you. He's quite, quite above you in the social food chain."

"Quite frankly, I'm uncomfortable discussing this subject with you. I'd like to leave and I'd like for you to move out of the doorway."

Santana shakes her head. "Our conversation isn't finished, Man Hands."

"I think it is. I think, _know_, there's nothing else I want or need to hear from you. Your words, much like yourself, are irrelevant in the greater scheme of things."

"I think it's rather _kind_ of Finn to casually step in and become the replacement for Puck. I wonder what Quinn would say, since they've been broken up for less than a week."

"You can tell her whatever you want and it won't matter because only lies come from your mouth."

"I don't think so. Not with this one. These aren't even _lies_, they're the truth. I think she'll be _fascinated_."

"I don't think there's anything left to discuss with you, Santana. Do what you want. You will, anyway."

Rachel decides being nice isn't accomplishing anything, and pushes Santana out of her way.

Running out of bathroom, she races down the stairs. Losing her footing on the third stair from the top, she slips.

Crumpled on the floor, she lay there, not moving.


	12. Crash Course in Polite Conversations

After the fall, Rachel doesn't wake up through the afternoon, not opening her eyes until the early morning, the time she's supposed to be in first period History. The first person she sees nestled with her is Finn, his hand on her stomach. She moves gingerly to the side, turning herself to face him.

Her dads left on a business trip after the dinner with Noah, a meeting she's supremely grateful for, given her current condition in the hospital bed, and the fact that Finn is snoring softly into her shoulder. She doesn't know if she has the energy, or the ability to lie, to explain why Finn is here with here, not her pseudo boyfriend that she introduced to her parents the other night.

She blinks back tears, and stares at him, the gaze of her stare eventually waking him up.

"Hey."

"Hi, Finn." She whispers softly, her throat aches.

"You gave us quite a scare, you know." He brushes a stray strand of hair from her eyes, and leans his forehead onto hers.

"I'm sorry." She doesn't know what she's apologizing for, but the words need to be said, the message needs to be conveyed. (I'm sorry for making you a part of my problem)

Finn places a kiss on her temple, whispering words of comfort.

"Don't be, you didn't do anything wrong."

She nods softly, her eyes itching and turning to sandpaper.

"How's the baby?"

"He's good."

Rachel lets out a breath she wasn't aware she was holding. She thinks it's a sign, a high fall, and the baby survived. She has to keep this pregnancy now. She lets out a small smile, it may not be that bad.

"You're having a boy."

She presses her hand to his face, burrowing herself deeper into his chest.

"Does everyone know?" (Did Santana tell?)

Finn looks confused. "No, just you and me. Now that you're awake, I'm going to let you get some rest. I'll be back in a little while."

"Can you stay? Please. I don't want to be alone. I just, I just need you to help me stay strong."

He covers her with his arms, and she feels the full extent of the exhaustion seeping into her bones, and she falls asleep.

Somewhere on the other side of town, their high school is abuzz with the floating rumors circulating their way across the halls.

_I heard Santana pushed her down the stairs_.

_I heard that she slipped on her own, and Santana found her_.

_I heard Berry was doing one of Santana's former flings and that's why Santana tried to kill her._

Puck, headphones in all day, doesn't hear any of the rumors, he doesn't hear anything until lunch time when Mercedes saunters over to him, ripping out the white buds from his ears.

"What the _fuck_. I was listening to that. Give them back." He gives her a nasty stare, pissed she's _even_ talking to him.

"How much are you contributing, white boy?" She takes out an envelope, and a pen to mark down the figure.

He gives her a look. "What are you talking about?"

"For _Rachel_. Look, I get that you don't like her but seriously, she's in the hospital. The least you could do is fork over some cash for some flowers."

His eyes widen, a look of surprise and disbelief circling his features. "Why is she in the hospital?"

"After you stormed out of Glee club yesterday to go home, she fell down the stairs. Or Santana pushed her. Take your pick. How much can I count on you for? I don't have all day, you know."

And just like that, Puck bolts for the second time in less than twenty four hours at the mention of Rachel Berry.

Breaking several speed limits on his way to her, Puck is out of breath by the time he arrives. Walking into her room, Puck sees Rachel molded into Finn, her hand gripping his shirt, and sleeping softly. Finn grunts a reply to Puck, and is the first to break the spell of silence.

"I don't think this is the best time, man. Can you come back later or something?"

"I just want to talk to her."

"She's sleeping, and stop talking so loud, you'll wake her. She _just_ fell asleep."

Puck motions to the door.

"We need to talk."

Finn gives a sigh, and gently untangles Rachel from him, closing the door softly on his way to follow Puck.

"Can't this wait?"

"No, I want to talk to her. I need to see her, I need to explain."

"She's sleeping. Dude, just come back later."

"I can't come back later, I want to know about the baby. And her, if she's alright."

Finn narrows his eyes, and an iciness travels through them.

"How do you know about the baby? I didn't know she told anyone in Glee."

"She didn't."

Finn stands there, eyebrows raised, and finally, Puck relents and speaks.

"I'm the father."

Finn breaks into a fit of hysterical laughter, as Puck stands there uncomfortably, wondering what joke he missed.

"Dude, you're not cut out to be a father."

"What's that supposed to mean? Are you questioning my parental abilities? That's rich coming from the guy who doesn't know left from right."

"Hell yeah, man. This morning, you held another girls hand and you let, you stood by and _let_, your friends make fun of her. If you knew she's the mother of your child, why didn't you say something? God, be a man for once."

"I feel _horrible_. I do but, I'm not going to disappear. I want to be responsible."

"Look, man. You're not responsible enough to take care of a goldfish. It's fine, I'll help her with the baby. Maybe I'll even give you pictures once in a while. Or even a wedding invitation when we get married."

"I don't want you raising my child." Puck ignores the dig about the wedding, feeling something revolting inside his stomach.

"I don't think that's your choice to make. She's made her decision for who the role of father is going to be filled by, obviously. After the shit you pulled this morning, I don't see why her opinion would change."

"Look, it won't happen again. I messed up but I'm ready to do this, to make changes."

"I don't want you part of her life, you've done more than enough over the years to punish her for things of your own making. I don't want you part of this baby's life."

"That's not fair, it's not even any of your business. You're one to talk, too. You just broke up with Quinn."

"I broke up with Quinn _for_ Rachel, learn the difference."

"I want to be a part of this."

"I'll ask her to send you a postcard."

"I don't get your problem, this isn't even your child." _Or your girlfriend_, he thinks.

Finn sobers up, and stares at Puck intently, finally making eye contact.

"Well, then you're going to have to fight for her because the way I see it, I'm not giving her up without a fight."

With that, Finn walked back inside the hospital room, leaving a stunned Puck outside, and curled up with Rachel as if he never left.

_Author's Note: Happy Holidays, everyone! So, I've been slacking on updating this story, I didn't know how much you guys liked it until I started getting messages asking when I'll update._


	13. The Leaving Song

Rachel stays overnight in the hospital, Finn refusing to budge from her bed and Finn keeping Puck's visit a secret from her. He does what he thinks is right, he wants to protect her the best way he knows he can.

The next day, he waits with her as the nurses give her her discharge papers, playing with his keys. Out of nowhere, he drops another kiss on the crown of her head, easy enough to do given his height, and is rewarded with one of her smiles. He wonders if this will be their opportunity to be together, their opportunity to start fresh. He _had_ always wanted to be a father at a young age, never anticipating this early, but he doesn't mind. He doesn't mind _anything_ involving Rachel.

He drives her home, her car still at school, and walks with her down the sidewalk, holding her elbow gently to steady her.

She turns the key in the lock, and opens her front door, astounded to see orchids and tulips covering inches across her living room, and the hallway, the stairs. She glances up the stairs, seeing rose petals covering the doorway of her room.

"Finn, this is beyond _amazing_. The flowers are gorgeous, and they are my absolute _favorite_. I had imagined you were considerate but I wasn't aware you were this romantic. How did you know they were my favorite flowers?"

Finn, opening his mouth to respond, is beaten to the punch by another's voice.

"He didn't."

Rachel's eyes transform into an unreadable expression, and her upper body stiffens at the sound of Puck's voice.

"They're lovely, thank you for the gesture. How did you know?"

"I called your father."

Rachel's mouth falls open.

"How were you able to reach them?"

"Where there's a will, there's a way, Berry. They were pleased I was trying to repair our relationship, as they put it."

She smiles shyly.

"Thanks."

The three stand in her foyer, Finn fidgeting uncomfortably.

"Now that you've dropped off the flowers, you're more than welcome to leave," blurts out Finn.

Rachel gives Finn a look, _where are your manners_, and looks over at Puck.

"I came over here to talk to Rachel. _Privately_." He shoots Finn a dirty look, and waits for him to leave _instead_.

Finn frowns, evidently uncomfortable at the idea of leaving Rachel alone, let alone Rachel _alone_ with Puck, but he kisses Rachel's forehead.

"Call me if you need anything, but I'll probably stop by later tonight."

Puck rolls his eyes.

"That won't be necessary, Prince Charming. She'll be fine with the Big Bad Wolf for a couple of hours."

Finn doesn't bother acknowledging Puck's comment, just walks out the door, letting Rachel closing it silently behind her.

She folds her hands across her stomach, and looks at him tentatively.

"You have forty five seconds before I kick you out."

_Author's Note_: Yeah, yeah. I am _horrible_ with ending chapters. Have a wonderful New Year, you guys!

Next update: Saturday, January 3rd. See you in the New Year :)


	14. Brave New World

Author's Note: This chapter is short because there's not much else I could go with it but the next one is longer.

He begins to fidget, his brain still searching for the correct words to use.

"You're wasting your seconds, Puck." She taps her foot impatiently, the sound of the clicking heavy in his ears, leading to an overflow of his words.

"This isn't what I wanted, you know. I was never even sure if I wanted children, I wasn't sure if I could be a good father and now you're pregnant, and now all I can think about are children, and it freaks the _shit_ out of me. I'm worried, worried enough to kiss you and tell you one thing one day and do something different the next day. My father was a deadbeat, and I always promised that I wouldn't roll like that, but after yesterday, I'm not so sure. "

He doesn't pause to take a breath, he just goes on, continuing his ramble while she looks on.

"I had this whole speech planned out, this whole idea of what I would say when I had the chance and now, I'm standing here, and I can only think of I'm sorry, I can only think of two words. I am _so_ sorry, and I still haven't been able to shake the image of your face from the other day. I care, I care so badly, and I can only look at you and think of what an ass I've been. I can change, I can and if you give me a chance, I'll make it up to you. I won't give you a chance to regret this."

"There was a reason we ended up together that night, and I don't know what it was, but I'd like to find out."

He stops, the words no longer cascading out of his mouth, and he looks at her with bated breath. Please, please, _please_, he thinks.

Finally, she nods.

"Alright, but this is your last opportunity, there will be no other chances after this point. This is the last olive branch I'm extending, extending a final chance for you to prove yourself. Make it good, Puck."

He breathes a sigh of relief.

"Thanks."

Grabbing her hand, he pulls her in and breathes in the smell of her hair. Even after he lets some space in between them, he doesn't let go of her hand, their fingers interlaced. He stands there awkwardly, neither of them willing to be the first one to let go. He's so afraid of letting go, the drop of her hand may cause her to change her mind.

"Are you hungry?" He doesn't know why he's whispering, and judging by the giggle escaping from the back of her throat, neither does she.

"Why are you whispering?" She asks, watching him shrug his shoulders.

"I'd love a nice lunch. Hospital food leaves something to be desired."

He laughs, and takes her lead as they walk into the kitchen, hand in hand.

Later, after he cooks her lunch and makes her eat, she walks him out to the door, and is intent on closing it after him when he grabs her hand to give it a small squeeze.

"We'll be okay."

Pulling his collar up, Puck walks out the door, a nervous Rachel gazing after him.

Up Next:

Finn strikes first.

P.S. As always, reviews are love. I never update because I always assume this is the least popular fic out of all the ones I have up. (Until I get private messages asking me where the update is)


	15. An Attempt to Tip the Scales

The next morning, Rachel awakens to the significantly loud ringing of her doorbell, the incessant ring pounding in her eardrums. Pulling on a robe, she walks carefully down the stairs to open it, and is greeted by Finn.

"Hi, Finn. Come in, I didn't expect to see you today. It is Sunday, after all." Closing the door from the cold draft of air, she moves him along inside.

"I was worried for you after I left last night, so I thought I would come by again this morning, make sure everything is fine, see how you feel."

She leans her head back against the door, touched by his concern.

"That's sweet of you, Finn. I'm touched."

"What were your plans for today?"

She frowns, she had expected to spend the day in bed, relaxing but since Finn is here, she isn't able to stay with her original plan.

"I'm not sure, actually."

He nods, his hands still in his pockets.

"Do you want to go to the mall?"

She looks at him, resolving to send him home and go back upstairs to sleep, but she's surprised when those aren't the words that leave the tip of her tongue.

"That would be nice, I think I may need to start looking into maternity clothes. It's a little soon, but I want to be prepared to buy them on-line if the ones in the store are inadequate for my small frame."

"I'd really like to be a part of that, Rach. Thanks."

She smalls, and goes upstairs to change into something comfortable, and warm. Something involving pants, since the wind outside is dreadful, and she can feel its chill, even inside.

Forty five minutes later, she's buckled into his car, on their way to the mall. She doesn't make small talk, neither does he. The two of them find it oddly settling to sit in silence.

Finn helps her out of the car when they arrive, grabbing her hand to hold and doesn't let it go. She never does, so they walk through the mall hand in hand. He points out various things, and she giggles, laughing at his humor. She realizes it's two in the afternoon, and she still hasn't eaten, so she tugs him to the food court, ignoring his apologies for not realizing sooner she missed breakfast because of him.

After they eat, Rachel scarfing everything in sight as Finn pokes fun at her mercilessly, they walk over into the maternity store.

On the other side of the food court, Puck was finishing up his lunch, anticipating a meeting with Santana later. He's about to head out, when he catches a glimpse of the two.

Puck, seeing Finn and Rachel walk into the maternity store, sends a text to Santana, he won't be able to make it to see her, and wanders into the maternity store after them.

He walks over to the pair casually, and grins.

"Fancy meeting you two here."

He enjoys the look of aggravation on Finn's face, and moves a spare hair from Rachel's eyes.

"Hi, Puck." She doesn't flinch at Puck's touch like Finn hoped, a small shiver cascading through her body instead.

"What are you doing here?" Finn asks, visibly nervous. This was supposed to be _his_ time with Rachel, a chance to show how involved he could be.

"I thought of Rachel, and decided to go to the mall. You know, considering she won't fit into her clothes soon, I wanted her to be prepared." Obviously that's not the real reason, but no one would ever know, anyway. It worked out rather well, anyway. He would have done this anyway, but he's _extremely_ grateful to have run into her now, her but not so much with Finn.

Rachel's eyes blink back tears. "That's so sweet of you, Puck. I'm glad you're taking this chance so seriously, that you care about me, after _all_." She moves her hand to rub his arm, and Finn tries not to gag.

Puck shrugs nonchalantly. "Nothing but the best for my baby mama."

She grins, and goes back flipping through the rack for her purchases, throwing items in both their hands. She figures, they're both here, they might as well be useful. She _abhors_ the thought of trying on the items here, so she grabs what she knows will fit later, and will return the rest.

Struggling under the weight of the clothes, Puck and Finn bring the items to the register, dumping them on the counter. The sales clerk raises an eyebrow at the two boys, and the tiny pregnant girl.

After ringing up the total, she looks at them both.

"Who's paying?"

"I am." Finn and Puck reply in unison, arguing for several minutes, then finally resolving to split the tab.

"Who's the father?" The sales clerk at the register asks, politely enough to be nosy but politely enough to not pry.

"I am." Finn and Puck reply in unison, leaving a bewildered expression on the clerk's face.

Much to the chagrin of the sales clerk, Rachel smiles, not bothering to correct either boy, and leaves the store, Puck and Finn arguing over who should carry the purchases. Upon arriving at her door, she walks in, they brought the purchases to her room away from the eyes of her fathers, and once they come down, she turns to bid them a proper good-night. Instead, she's greeted with a shoving match.

"Why do _you_ get to say good-bye last? I brought her here." Finn has his hands folded, intent on not leaving the porch prior to Puck.

"Well, I got her pregnant, so obviously, I win. Without my sperm, you wouldn't have to bring her there." Puck looks agitated, and Finn looks upset, and Rachel just continues smiling at them both. With no morning sickness earlier in the day, and two boys fawning over her, she feels blissfully happy, despite the set of circumstances she's found herself in..

"Good-night, good-night both of you. I appreciate the nice day you two spent with me, I'm so _thankful_ for the purchases, and I'm touched the two of you are trying this hard."

Rachel waves to both of them, throwing separate smiles to each boy, and slams the door in their face. She's exhausted, and an expectant mother needs sleep.

AN: I haven't decided which way I'm leaning towards for the father, but at heart, I really like Rachel and Puck together. As always, reviews are love (much more for this story than others, it's the unwanted child of the bunch :(


	16. The Beginning of Something New

The next morning, Rachel wakes up promptly at six, walking bleary eyed into her bathroom when a wave of vomit overcomes her, and finds her on the floor, clutching the porcelain bowl. Hitting the flush button, she stands up, her feet wobbling beneath her. Splashing some cold water on her face, she catches a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror, and decides today is not the best day to attend school. Turning off the water, she grabs a towel and goes to lay down in the bathtub, the cool ceramic lulling her back to sleep.

Several hours later, she's roused from her sleep by an angry Puck storming into her bathroom, and yelling a vast range of obscenities and long sentences at her. He yells and yells, and she can only lay there, an eyebrow raised at his hand gestures. She waits for him to catch a breath before she speaks.

"Why are you yelling at me? I didn't do _anything_."

"You weren't in school this morning, and I thought maybe you're late but then you didn't show up for your first two periods, and then you didn't answer your phone, and then I arrive at your house and find your front door, _open_. I let myself in, and by the time I'm halfway up the stairs, I'm convinced there's a god damn serial killer, maybe even zombies in this house, and I couldn't protect you, and then I'm yelling all over the _fucking_ house for you, and then I find you, sleeping in the _bathtub_. Of all the places to take a nap, you curl up in the bathtub. What the _fuck_, Berry?" Puck looks pissed, which he is. Very _very _pissed. He nearly had a heart attack when he opened the door to her house, and she was nowhere to be found.

"The front door is always open, Puck. Let me tell you where we live. We live in Lima, Ohio. We live where people routinely leave their doors open, we live in the middle of nowhere. I'm laying in the bath tub because I spent all _fucking_ morning throwing up my intestines, so I didn't even bother to leave this room since I woke up. If it wasn't for the fact that my throat hurts like hell, and that yelling damages my vocal chords, I would throw a tantrum. Though, you've seen my "

"You should have called." He looks slightly mollified by her response, and sticks his hands in his pockets.

"Haven't you listened to a word I've just said? My phone is in the other room, and I haven't left this room since I woke up. Wash behind those ears next time, Puckerman."

"Maybe you can wash them for me instead. Move over, Berry. I'm coming in."

She looks alarmed. "Coming in _where_? There's not enough space for you and your ego to merge with me and my expanding waistline."

He rolls his eyes at her tone, the girl should be flattered he's climbing into the bathtub with her.

"Question answered." He climbs in, and tries to snag some of her covers, and fails. How the hell did she expect this towel to cover her, much less keep her warm?

Frustrated that the towel she grabbed is too short, he hops out again, and comes back a minute later, lugging her bedspread covers. Throwing them in, he climbs in and covers the two of them with it.

He looks over at her, snuggling into the covers and mentally pats himself on the shoulder for formulating such a great idea. It's nice to have her snug against him, it's nice to be burrowed under the covers with her, even if it _is_ in the bathtub.

"Shouldn't you be in school?"

He kinks an eyebrow, a lazy smirk circling the upper corners of his mouth. His thumb moves to the back of her ear, gently rubbing circles and shapes.

"Since when do I attend class? Be as it may, Berry, you have a point. Laying here in this tub with you is cutting into my extracurricular activities with the nurse."

She ignores his quip about the nurse, and tries to focus at the task at hand.

"Maybe you should start. You can't avoid the real world forever." She doesn't say the words that are covered underneath, that she's afraid he'll avoid the real world long enough to fail high school. That gets the two, the _three_, of them absolutely nowhere.

"I'm not avoiding."

"You're an avoider."

"I am not an avoider. Go back to bed. You're allowed, since I'm here and I could protect you with my fists and my stellar karate moves."

"If you think you can tell me what to do, you've got another thing coming."

"Sure I can, my baby momma needs her rest."

She punches him lightly in the arm but moves in closer, settling underneath the crook of his arm. The two lay in silence, the reality of the situation descending upon them, the lightness from earlier dropping away.

"Do you want this baby?" That's not how her message was meant to be conveyed, she meant to ask if he wanted this baby with _her_. She's pretty sure that if he ever imagined having kids, raising them, he didn't imagine it would involve her.

He pulls away, stunned. "Of course I want this baby, I've wanted it since you told me. Why? You _fucking _don't?"

His terse comment stuns her, and guilt begins to fester inside her for even asking. She keeps her eyes lowered to his chest, she's petrified of making eye contact.

"I do, I _do_, but I don't know. This isn't the best situation to be in at sixteen, not when we're two years from graduating high school. This isn't how I planned things, this isn't how I imagined my life starting."

"Best situation or not, Berry, we have to make the most of it. You're pregnant, and we're going to be parents, and that's _that_. You're Jewish, and I'm Jewish, and we both know that our religion frowns upon abortion."

"I wasn't going to have an abortion, Puck. I just asked if you want the baby. Yeah, fine, whatever. You're going to stick around now, but are you really going to stay? Stay for a _whole_ lifetimes worth?"

He looks at her, his eyes glimmering with anger. "Hell yeah, I'm going to stay. I'm not my father, and now, I'm _fucking_ offended that you think less of me."

"I don't think less of you. I'm _positive_ you'd make a wonderful father, and a strong father figure for our child. But really, Puck, get with the program. You can't _seriously_ look me in the eyes right now, and tell me that you're ecstatic that I'm the mother. Especially after that debacle with Quinn the other afternoon."

"Oh _my_ God. Are you _ever_ going to let that _fucking_ go? It happened, it was an accident, I was an ass. Get over it, it's not going to happen again. I don't know how many times I have to tell you that but I'm committed to this baby, and I'd like to see where things go with us. That's all I can promise, all I can give you. Don't be so _fucking_ self-sabotaging or we're not going to work, regardless."

"So we're really going to try?"

He throws his hands up in the bathtub, or as far as they can go in a small cramped space.

"Yes, we're going to try, and if we fail, we fail but at least we know we tried."

She nods. "Alright, but no more holding Quinn's hand, or any other girl. Or cougars. Or you're dead. Father of my child or not, I _will_ castrate you if you're unfaithful."

He nestles her back underneath the crook of his arm, and slouches, finally comfortable.

"I'm a little worried about easily you said you'll castrate me. Leave the boys alone, okay? They have a hard enough life not being exposed to everyone, hiding in darkness all day long."

She moves a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggle, and doesn't bother to reply. She _really_ doesn't want to go into this topic right now.

He pauses for a second, and adds a condition of his own.

"Fine, but you've got to give up Finn."

Puck has seen the way Finn looks at her, and it's starting to piss him off. Dude should back off already, especially since Puck _wants _to assume responsibility for little Puck.

"What do you mean, give _up_ Finn? What's there to give up?"

"You know exactly what I mean. If we're going to try to make this work, then you can't lead him on and give him false hope. Don't act like he has a chance if he doesn't."

She sighs, but agrees, knowing it's for the better.

"Plus, I don't want you having sex with him while you're pregnant with my child. That's just _wrong_. And revolting. Just that thought makes me want to hurl my breakfast, and I didn't _even_ have breakfast."

"I'm appalled that you think that low of me, Puckerman. _Obviously_, if I'm having sex with anyone in my current condition, it would be you. Honestly now. The things you think of."

"So, does this mean we're going to have sex? Because I'm still sixteen, and I have needs. I'm a stud, and I have to keep my reputation. I can't keep up my reputation if I'm not having sex. Also, I'm a little, a lot, turned on by you, and having sex with you, knowing you're carrying my child. It's a _huge_ turn-on. I mean, no pressure or anything. I'm not going to go out and bang the first girl I see if we don't have sex."

She rolls her eyes, but finds his speech endearing to her heart. "One thing at a time, Romeo. We'll re-visit that condition at a later time."

"It's not completely off the table, then." He was worried. What has this world come to if his own baby mama wouldn't want to have sex with him?

"No."

"Good, because you were pretty good."

"It was my _first _time."She hisses, fuming he suggested she's less than amazing at _anything_.

"Imagine how amazing you'll be with practice." He kisses the top of her head, and closes his eyes, imaging the future sex they would enjoy together. After a while, he opens his eyes, and looks at her. She's fallen asleep, her breathing coming softly. He traces her lip with his finger tips, and he leans in closer.

"There are worse people to be stuck with for life, you know. I'm kind of glad you're the mom, Berry. You'd make a good one."

When Puck leaves later that afternoon, he kisses her on the cheek, and mentions he'll pick her up from school the following morning. Closing the door, Rachel trudges up the stairs, and wonders if she imagined his voice while she was asleep.

AN: I think I went a little too italics happy here. What do you guys think of the characterization? Am I on cue? Does it need work? Do you like it? Does it get better or worse each chapter? I don't think I'm going to have much Finn in this story, if only because I get enough Finn in my other ones. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. As always, reviews are love (especially considered this story is the unloved child of the bunch.)


	17. AN

So, I was planning on revealing Rachel's pregnancy in the following chapter but I'm still a little hesitant to do so. I thought I would ask if you guys have any preference, if you want her outed quickly or if you want me to keep them in a private bubble for the meantime.

Any thoughts?


	18. The One with the Coffee Part I

He grabs the coffee from Rachel's hand when she enters his vehicle the next morning, and she can only watch in horror as he spills the remnants out his window. She feels a group of vines twisting around her lungs, preventing her from speaking.

"That was my _coffee_." Open mouthed, Rachel is staring at Puck as though he's deprived her of oxygen.

"I know that was your coffee. That's why I spilled it out the window."

"That was my _coffee_. Scientists have done a study that correlates coffee and awesomeness, and they were born five minutes apart."

"Impossible, because I'm awesome and I don't drink that shit."

"That was my _coffee_. It was made _just_ like me." She can only repeat, still saddened.

He rolls his eyes, and puts the car into drive. "Yeah? How so?"

"Bitter, cold and slightly past its prime."

"Funny, I like my women like that. Bitter, overpriced, ice cold too."

She doesn't respond, but he sees a smile hug her mouth.

"I think you're being melodramatic. You're only sixteen."

"Yeah, and I'm already pregnant. I'm going to have stretch marks and saggy breasts. All I have to enjoy these days is coffee, I'm not even having sex. I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation. You spilled my coffee out your window, and now, instead of the coffee comforting my stomach, it's comfortably resting on the asphalt. What the _fuck_ does coffee need to comfort gravel for, _Puck_?"

"You wouldn't be having sex, anyway, so let's not even go that route. Moving on, because I'm getting turned on, through the use of Wikipedia last night, I learned that expectant mothers should not be allowed caffeine."

"There is absolutely no evidence that says coffee is bad. I'm allowed sixteen ounces, sixteen ounces which you just deprived me of. _Sixteen_ tiny ounces. Surely you possess enough knowledge of mathematics to fully comprehend that, in the greater scheme of things, sixteen ounces is not a lot. Why, it's rather insignificant."

"Save the speech, Berry. Those don't work with me. Sixteen ounces is _still_ too much, especially for that tiny bod of yours. Plus, I saw that coffee hit the ground, it looked disgusting. If you ask me, I did you a favor. Show some gratitude."

Angrily, Rachel crosses her arms around her chest, and pouts.

"Morning coffee is like morning sex, you know."

He kinks an eyebrow. "There's no _fucking_ way that you just made that comparison."

She bats an eyelash, and moves a little closer to him, placing her hand on his upper thigh.

"Morning coffee is like morning sex, Puck. Even when it sucks, it's still pretty good, and vice versa."

"Yeah, well. You need to work on your temptress skills since I don't care, it's not as if you're putting out, anyway. Go back to your side of the car."

She hits him in the thigh, and moves back to her previous position.

"I'll buy a cup at school, then. Away from you and your wanton hands."

"Nope. There will be no more caffeine for you. Not while you're my baby mama, and carrying my spawn."

"But I need my _coffee_. I don't understand how you expect me to function like a fully capable human being, much less last through the rest of the day."

"Look, Berry. I'm going to say this once so listen good, and listen carefully. Let's stop the coffee worship, it's just a _fucking_ drink. Talk to me when you crave something scarier, like human blood or tap water."

That shuts her up but only because her brain is no longer cooperating with her mouth. She doesn't know what the coffee does in the first ten minutes while she stares at the wall, similar to zombies, and the coffee hits her brain, but _clearly_, it is magic.

He looks over at her, still pouting, and smirks.

"I thought so. You have no witty retorts because you know I'm right. I'm _right_. Let's do a song and dance." He starts bobbing his head, and drumming his fingers against the wheel.

She doesn't respond, just stares ahead at the road in front of them.

"So you're not talking to me now?"

He sees her bite her lip, slightly chewing on the skin.

"Really?"

"Look, it's not like I'm going to like you _any_ better if you're sitting there not giving me my coffee."

They pull up onto school grounds, and she unhooks her seat belt, and turns to look at him.

"You know what? This is _proof_ God hates me because I spent the whole car ride wishing for coffee, and I have _none_." She gets out, slamming the door after her.

"You're Jewish, Berry. Our God doesn't believe in coffee, much less the satanic worship of it." He shouts after her, the wind brushing her hair on her shoulders.

He can only clutch his side in hysterical laughter as she stomps away, her feet carrying her as fast as she can go. Once he collects his bearings, he finds her by her locker, angrily taking out textbooks.

He proceeds to open his mouth to say something kind, something that wouldn't provoke her when she clamps her hand on his mouth.

"I haven't had my coffee yet, Puck, thanks to you. Therefore, your assumption that I'm remotely interested in anything you want to say to me right now is _adorable_. Quite frankly, I'm not even going to bother to pretend to care or be bothered with what you have to say until I've had my sixteen ounces."

Puck rolls his eyes. He _knew_ he was getting involved with a total drama queen, this incident with the coffee only proves it.

"Fine, Berry. How do you want your coffee?"

She closes her locker door, and smiles sweetly at him. Inching slightly closer, her hand skims underneath his shirt, flicking across his skin, and had he known he would be getting this response, he would have offered her coffee earlier. She stands on her tip toes to whisper into his ear, her hand still trailing down his stomach.

"I like my coffee like I like my sex. Warm, soothing, and on the counter. See you later, boyfriend."

With that, she walks away from him for the second time in the space of ten minutes, leaving a gaping Puck.

AN: Thanks for your input you guys! Yay, I love your feedback.


	19. The One with the Coffee Part II

Shaking his head to remove the mental imagery of her and counters, Puck runs to catch up with Rachel, grabbing her by the arm.

Whirling around to face him, he tries to hide his laughter when he observes the expression on her face. She doesn't look happy, a grimace circling her mouth.

"Here's what I'm going to tell you, Puck. Revenge is best served cold."

He arches an eyebrow, waiting for her to gather her thoughts to continue. He's not sure what the hell revenge has to do with anything here but he's willing to compromise, but only if it means she'll calm down.

"Or not. I don't know. That's not the point. If you don't bring me my coffee, one of us will be very _very _sorry."

She pokes him in the chest, as _if _any of her tiny fingers could create any damage on him, and the gesture elicits a smile on his end.

"I'll even give you a hint. It's not going to be me."

"You have to stop being so melodramatic, Berry. It's not going to win you any points."

"I'm not looking for points. It's not much but this coffee cup is what keeps me from killing you, most days. Once that coffee is gone, the outcome of your life is up in the air."

"You can't kill your baby daddy. That's not kosher, Berry, even for you."

Arching her eyebrows, extremely high he thinks, she gives him another disgusted look and walks away. Staring at her back, Puck thinks that judging by the way the morning is going, this is going to be one hell of a pregnancy. Thankfully, nobody else is aware of the situation, not as of yet. The only people who know Rachel is pregnant are Finn and Santana, and neither of them are going to be opening their mouths anytime soon. He figures they have some time to keep this between themselves, since she's barely showing.

On her way to her morning class, away from Puck's eyes, she bumps into Finn.

"Hi, Finn."

"Hi, Rachel."

She fidgets on her feet, recognizing the awkwardness between the two now that she's willing to give Puck a chance.

"I'm going to give him a try, Finn, but I appreciate everything you've done for me. I hope you're okay with being friends. Your friendship means a lot to me, and I would hate to lose it."

He nods eagerly, similar to a bobble head.

"Of course I am, Rachel. Just let me know if there's anything you need."

A glimmer seeps into Rachel's brown eyes, as her mouth slowly turns into a smile.

"Anything?"

He nods. "Sure, I'm happy to help however you need me to."

She pulls him to the side, and explains what she needs, giving him specific instructions. After Rachel leaves him, Finn goes to get what Rachel asked for, taking extra care to make sure it is precisely what she wants.

Whistling down the hallway, he searches for Rachel, and walks into Puck, nearly spilling Rachel's beverage.

"Puck. Hi, it's good to see you, man. I have to go, no time to talk." Finn's voice takes on a slight stammer. Rachel told him to make sure, at all costs, avoid Puck, and Finn failed. Finn failed, because here is Puck, standing right in front of him.

"What are you holding in your hand?" Puck stares at Finn suspiciously.

Finn gulps. "Coffee."

"Since when do you drink coffee?"

"You know, you know." Finn gently nudges Puck on his shoulder.

"No, I don't know, actually. Why don't you tell me?"

Puck stares Finn down, waiting for him to break. He barely has to wait a minute before the truth rushes out of Finn's mouth.

"It was Rachel, man. I'm sorry. She needed coffee, and now that we're all friends, she could I could help with anything she needs, and you weren't around, I thought I'd bring it for her. She said it's fine for the baby."

Narrowing his eyes, Puck grabs the cup from his hands.

"Don't listen to her. She has no say."

"But she said coffee is _good_ for the baby."

Observing the cup, Puck rolls his eyes.

"There's thirty two ounces of coffee here. It's great if you want to kill the fetus."

Finn's eyes widen in horror.

"Do you think that's what she's trying to do?"

"NO. Go to class, Finn. Don't mention to her you saw me, just tell her that they ran out of coffee. And Finn, for next time, don't say yes without consulting me."

Finn nods really quickly, and runs from Puck, nearly knocking over several freshmen in the process. Throwing out the coffee, Puck walks back to the cafeteria, buying Berry a cup of tea instead. When he brings it to her, he notices the distasteful expression on her face, but she takes it, anyway.

Rachel adjusts her cup, staring at the writing of the tea bag.

"We must be the change we wish to see in the world."

Thinking about it, she nods.

"These tea bags are pretty profound, you guys."

She purses her lips, and takes another sip. She tries not to gag, she doesn't need to be running back into the bathroom to vomit her intestines.

"What are you drinking that gives you that Renee Zellweger squished face? You look like you swallowed a bag of lemons."

"I'm drinking tea today, thank you. I'm trying to be more conscious of my health." That, and Puck deprives people of their closely held dreams, she thinks darkly.

Kurt raises an eyebrow, observing the stormy look that clouds its way into her eyes. "Since when?"

"Since today."

"What for?"

"So I can pretend my general insanity is inversely proportional to my caffeine consumption."

"You're very quiet, then. Perhaps there is a relationship between the two."

"What today needs is less quiet, and more of an espresso IV drip." She hisses, frightening Kurt.

"All I asked for was sixteen _freaking_ ounces."

Puck would be worried, and frightened by the unmistakable look of anger in her eyes, if he didn't find the entire situation hilarious. Continuing to sip her tea, a faraway look steals into her eyes.

"Rachel, what are you thinking about?" Tina asks, concerned.

"I'm thinking of someone _special_."

Puck's face brightens at this. Maybe she's gotten over her episode from this morning.

"But it's not _you._" She glares pointedly in Puck's direction, eliciting a glare back.

"He's acting as if I put vodka in my coffee." Rachel says out loud, drawing puzzled stares from everyone.

"You're not allowed to drink." Puck says automatically.

"Why not? I'm sure Rachel could be quite the drinker." Mercedes interrupts, not that anyone asked her for her thoughts.

"I'm not a _drinker_, and I'm offended that you would say such a vile thing."

"You didn't answer the question."

"Bad liver." Puck cuts in, diverting the attention back to him.

"How do you know about her liver?"

"What is this, twenty questions? Mind your own business."

"We've been together so long, he knows what I'm thinking. It's nice because usually I have no idea." Rachel hurries to fix things, and ends up making matters at hand worse.

"You've been dating a day, according to the grape vine."

"Tomato, tom_a_to. Time is relative." She makes a couple of weird hand gestures, much to the puzzlement of everyone around her.

"Oh, look at that. That's the bell. I'm afraid that's all the time we have today, see you all at Glee."

Grabbing Rachel's hand, Puck pulls her away from everyone else, and walks with her to her morning class, her hand tightly held in his.

"Are you going to be good?"

Rachel scrunches her nose, and sucks in her cheeks, making a face.

"Thank you for the tea. It was a thoughtful gesture on your part. However, despite your desire to formulate a peace treaty between us, there will be no such thing. Not until you adhere to my demands. I'm throwing down the gauntlet."

He drops a kiss at the crown of her head, and hugs her tightly, tightly but gently.

"Not a chance, Berry."

She can only watch him saunter off down the hallway, agitated. Through the day, she wonders about his inability to give her coffee. It's a rather chivalrous gesture on his part, to show concern for the baby, and to ensure everything goes smoothly. Still, she frowns, she'd prefer if he was more concerned with something else while she has her beverage.

After lunch time, a hand pulls Puck into the nearest janitor's closet, and he's ready to start hitting the person when he realizes it's Rachel's tiny body hugging him.

"Why are we hiding in the janitor's closet? There's no light in this room."

"Because we need privacy."

"For what? I'm not having sex with you in this closet so you could drink coffee. You can't take advantage of me. I'm iron clad, babe."

Her hands massage his back, slowly winding their way down to his belt, her fingers quietly trying to undo the front. He can feel her fingers dip past his waistband, and he's a mixture of equally turned on and curious to see how low she'd actually go.

"The problem with oral sex is that it's like coffee."

His eyes dart around the dimly lit room, and he tries to find his willpower again. It's back to the _fucking_ coffee _again_.

"When done right, the coffee is amazing but when it's not done correctly, so _so_ many things could go wrong."

He pushes her hands from his waist, and fastens his belt. _That_ was close, he thinks ruefully. He cannot have her coming anywhere near his twins with that mood she's in. She may try to exact revenge and bite. He shudders at the thought. Putting his hands on her shoulders, he tries to explain.

"Berry, Berry. When will you learn? You _cannot_ take sex off the table if we're not having any. Honestly, with your intelligence, I would have expected you to think up more creative plans."

Rachel starts to cry. Like honest tears, real tears cascading down her face.

"Why are you crying?" He doesn't roll his eyes at her tear fest, he figures this would only worsen the matters at hand.

"Maybe, maybe." She tries to speak through her hiccups, gathering strength through her sobs.

"Maybe my life would have turned out differently if I just forwarded those chain letters."

Puck takes her into his arms, letting her sob it out on his newest bird shirt. He's going to bill her for this, he thinks.

Once she's quieted, he aligns his body slightly to look at her.

"Berry."

She nods, sniffling.

"Honey."

She curls her lip in disgust at the term. She should step on Puck's feet as retaliation, but she needs those feet for Sectionals.

Cupping her face in his hand, his thumbs circle across her cheekbones.

"If you don't relax, I'm going to kill you."

"I don't know how to relax. That's what the coffee is for."

He rolls his eyes. She has got to stop.

"How about we skip Glee today?"

She looks at him, her eyes wide, and if he didn't know better, he could swear she's not blinking.

"What would we do instead?"

He thinks for a minute, and grabs her hand to pull her out of the janitor's closet.

"Come on, I have an idea."

AN: Thanks for the reviews you guys! I always get sad because I have close to 200 alerts on this story, and I get less than ten reviews each chapter (You guys are wonderful). Not that alerts really matter. I don't put too much stock into alerts, I have some that I clicked alert on, and I don't read them. Anyway, I don't get many reviews and then I'm in no rush to update but then some of you PM and ask when I'm updating. So, we'll make a deal! You guys will review more, and then I'll update more. Fair? Fair. (Not that I would ever take a story hostage. Most of you reading my threats have realized how empty they really are.)


	20. The Tide that Left

"It's not about the coffee." Rachel says softly, after they've been sitting at the lake for close to an hour. She directs her gaze outward, her eyes peeled to the fading yellow of the sun. She watches as the sky lights in hues of purples and pink, a tint of red tainting the sky.

He looks at her, startled by the sound of her voice. He brought her here, this secluded spot by the lake. He hasn't been here since his younger days, but he's never forgotten the solace the area brought him when his father left. Bringing her seemed to be a natural instinct. She's said little since they've arrived at this spot, he was afraid she became mute. Arching an eyebrow, he waits for her to continue.

"I like things orderly, tidy with little red ribbons and bows. I like to know where things belong, routines in my every day life. Now, now I'm pregnant and I'm not allowed coffee, and I've been thrown off my routine." She blinks back several tears before they have a chance to fall from her eyelids, and takes a breath before continuing.

"After this, and after everything, I'm not going to have a routine, and I'm not going to have structure. You can't plan things with babies."

"We could make a new routine, you know."

She doesn't look at him, afraid of what she'll see if she did. Her eyes still gaze at the darkness enveloping them, the lack of stars shining through. He waits a beat before continuing, understanding it's less about the structure and more about the prospect of change (change of feelings) that worries her.

"I'm not that guy, Berry. We both know that. I can't promise you notes and romance every day we're together as proof of my feelings to you. Hell, I'm not even sure if I could do it once. I'm bound to fuck up, just like you will, but that doesn't mean I'll love this baby any less. It doesn't mean I'll care about you any less."

She stands, his words unacknowledged, dusting the remains of the dirt from her clothes.

"I'd like to go home now. Please."


	21. Suddenly Everything has Changed

Rachel tried to ignore the quiet coldness emanating from him on the drive; she was frightened enough to not say a word. She murmured her good-byes, and slowly walked to her room, where she's been sitting for several hours now. Surrounded by the comfort of her bedroom walls, Rachel sits and thinks.

She didn't mean to abruptly end the conversation by the lake by asking Puck to take her home; it just happened and by the time the words rolled off her tongue, it was too late to take them back. She meant to say something else, _anything_ else. She wanted to describe the feelings she felt at his kindness, at his thumb tracing her shoulder blades while he spoke. She wanted to tell him she doesn't need him to be _that _guy, who he is is enough for her. There were so many somethings she could have said, so many words she could have used if she was less frightened.

The next morning, she walks out to Puck's car, fully prepared to recite the apology she spent several hours composing. She was going to settle things with him, once and for all. He had been sharing more of himself while she continued to keep herself closed, and she knew that a change in her behavior is necessary. As she opens her mouth to speak, he sticks a Styrofoam cup in her face.

"Here." He grunts, barely looking at her, as she attempts to buckle her seat belt.

"What is this?"

"Orange juice; for your new routine."

"Thank you." She says softly, taking a sip. She blinks back the droplets forming underneath her eyelids; this is a gesture of _significant_ proportions. He wants her to have a routine, he wants her to be happy.

Several minutes pass while she nervously debates how to approach the subject of yesterday.

"Listen, about yesterday." Her voice trails off suddenly, she's forgotten everything she memorized last night at the look on his face. She _knew_ she should have bought her flash cards.

"Don't mention it."

She looks at him, puzzled.

"Seriously. Don't mention it."

"I wanted to apologize. I wanted to explain."

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

She nods, her eyes turning back to the road. She's unsure of how to proceed. She expected anger, perhaps some yelling. She didn't expect the resignation to lay across his voice that heavily. She sighs inside, her breath falling across her lungs, and she makes an attempt to change the subject, perhaps an attempt to incite a more proactive response on his end.

"So, I'm about two months pregnant, give or take several days."

He doesn't say anything, he's fully aware of how far along she is.

"I have an ultrasound appointment tomorrow. I think it'd be nice if you could come."

Rachel says, sneaking a peek at Puck from the corner of her eye, attempting to gauge his reaction.

"If you want to, that is." She adds hurriedly when he says nothing.

"I'll go. Thanks."

They don't speak any further, the car ride littered with unspoken words and an air of tension. When they arrive at school, she hops out of his car, intent on walking away without another word when his fingers grab hers, a silent message of forgiveness for the prior day.

The day passes by quietly, without a sound. She does what she's done all the days before, paying attention in class and eagerly awaiting for the arrival of Glee. She's the first to wander in, her arm linked with Puck's as she discusses the Tony awards with him; discreetly, he rolls his eyes. She ignores the roll of his eyes, she's just happy to know he's speaking to her again. This morning was a tacit method of torture on his part, one that she wasn't pleased with.

Santana is the first person to greet them, an airy step in the cheer leader's legs.

"You look extra happy today, Santana. Knowing you, I presume something terrible happened in the world last night." Rachel is the first to speak, barely hiding her disgust at the other girl's appearance.

Santana ignores Rachel's comment, dignifying it with a roll of her eyes. She focuses her attention onto Puck, a smile curling the corners of her mouth upwards.

"So, you and Man Hands are still together."

Rachel feels Puck tense next to her, and she waits for his reaction, holding her breath.

"Don't call her that, she has a name, and yes, we're still together." Puck says snidely, shooting a dirty glance at her. "Not that it's any of your business." He adds as an after thought.

Santana doesn't seem fazed by the news, simply throwing Rachel a smug look.

"He's only staying with you because you're _pregnant_."

And just like that, a simple word twists Rachel's world on its axis. She's surprised how gently Santana's words fall on everyone, there are no questions, no discussion. Everyone looks around, exchanging gazes amongst themselves, finally settling their eyes on Rachel and Puck; an eye on one and an eye on the other. Rachel drops her hand from Puck's and walks out the door, holding her feelings close to her chest as she attempts to find a comfort zone for her thoughts.

He finds her in the auditorium, her feet dangling from the edge. Walking up to her, he thinks of words he could say, words that are appropriate in this situation. Sitting down next to her, he takes a hold of her hand as her head falls gently onto his shoulder.

Kissing the crown of her head, he rests his chin on top of her hair.

"I'm sorry."

She doesn't say anything but he doesn't have to, he can feel the shrug of her shoulders underneath him and he knows that sometime in the next minute or two, she's going to begin to cry.

He's surprised when he feels her shoulders shake from laughter, tiny bubbles of giggles that escape from her throat. He can't help but smile with her, even if he's slightly unsure of what she's laughing at. Maybe they weren't listening to the same words, but Santana's words only provoked a fit of anger inside his body, nothing to laugh at.

"Santana's a bitch." Rachel says, once her laughter has gotten under control.

He nods, and she lifts her head, her eyes meeting his.

"I like you." She says, her voice confident and sure. She improvises her well rehearsed apology, there's nothing she remembers.

"A lot, actually. I like that you came to find me that day, that day when I stayed home and hid in my bath tub. You crawled in with me, and we talked, _really_ talked. Or that you're concerned with my caffeine intake, about the health of the baby. I like that you're here with me, that you _want_ to be here." She bites her lip, and gazes at him.

"You know I like you, right?" She says again, softly.

"I do now." Cupping her chip upwards, he kisses her for the first time since the dinner with her parents. His lips meet hers, a kiss strong and resolute, and he feels her sigh into his mouth. They sit like that, neither in a hurry to return to practice.

AN: As always, reviews are love. You guys are wonderful.


	22. Chapter 22

The next morning, Rachel absentmindedly flicks the waistband around her jeans, noticing it's stretch. It's small, minor even, but it's there nonetheless. Looking at the curve of her stomach, she couldn't tell she's pregnant; perhaps she's gained a few pounds. She shudders at the idea of weight gain and makes a note on an index card to research weight gain. She leaves out the part of weight gain for _expectant mothers_, what if her fathers are in the midst of cleaning her room and accidentally stumble upon the note?

She hears Noah outside, she's learned to distinguish his appearances by the loud noise of his truck. She pulls her shirt down hastily, murmuring a good-bye to her fathers on her way out the door.

"When do you think we should tell our parents?"

Rachel asks, after she's settled into the front seat. She debates leaning in to kiss him on the cheek, things changed after yesterday's revelation and when he kissed her. She decides against it, perhaps it's not the safest move to make while he's driving.

He shrugs, partially petrified at the idea of telling his mother. He's promised her up and down, across and sideways that he would never put himself in this position and he's broken the one promise he's sworn to keep. His prospects for survival in this meeting do not look good.

"We should tell them at the same time, perhaps a casual dinner party of sorts. We could invite them together under the pretense of introducing their child's significant other."

Rachel bites her lip, deep in thought over the technicalities of the situation. There is a firm belief in her mind that the dinner party has to go smoothly, or the best that it can given the situation. Any number of factors have the ability to ruin the warmth of this bubble they find themselves in and she finds herself needing the support of the two families.

"Perhaps we should do it at my house. My fathers adore the thought of cooking, and of entertaining guests, and it may make things easier on your mom so she doesn't have to go out of her way. I'd prefer if she comes over in a relaxed state and perhaps the idea of cooking and entertaining at your home may cause unnecessary stress. Also, I'm not thrilled at the prospect at breaking the significantly life changing news in a public place. There are too many things that could go wrong."

Puck shakes his head, his fingers tapping nervously against the steering wheel. Sensing his panic, Rachel is at a loss for words. What does he normally do to relax? She would ask him but his face has an expression she would rather not bother. He's not talking; she wonders if the whole thing is freaking him out already.

"I'll plan everything. We can have it in the next couple of days, better now than later. We could get it over with."

"That's a good idea, then. Just let me know the time and place."

Walking into school, they're both surprised by those around them. There are no secret whispers to their face, nothing said behind their back. Rachel finds this oddly unsettling, she was expecting similar reactions to Santana's. However, nobody says nothing judgmental to her. It is a rather ordinary day; nobody says _anything_ to her, just like previous days before this.

The insulated bubble around the pair does not burst but merely deflates as a result of the knowledge of the Glee club. She's grateful for this, for the safety nest surrounding her.

"Sectionals is five months away, you guys. We have to step up our game if we want to advance to the next round."

He passes out the assignments for the day's practice, side notes scattered against the margins.

Mr. Schue looks awkwardly at her stomach, an equal amount of concern and panic in his eyes.

"Are you going to be, uh, in an able condition to perform, Rachel?"

She nods, unoffended by his suggestion. He shrugs; there's nothing more for him to do. He hates having to inquire about her condition but her health and safety is his biggest priority, even if it comes at the expense of the Glee Club. He doesn't want to have Rachel engage in activities that are deemed unsafe to her or the child, no matter how much he needs that voice.

When the rehearsal has drawn to a close, Rachel finds herself surprised by Noah hovering over her.

He sticks out his hand to her, his sullen mood from the morning having passed. He doesn't make mention of his attitude from earlier and she feels uncomfortable bringing it up. She chalks it up to nerves for the parental meeting.

"We're going to be late for the appointment."

She can feel Noah fidget next to her in the waiting room, his feet are wearing a hole in the carpet with his constant circle motions. His fingers are in hers and she can feel the tension in his hand, he keeps relaxing and gripping hers at the same time.

"You don't have to be nervous."

He shoots her a look.

"I'm not nervous."

"I can feel your nervous."

"I'm _fine_."

He says, sharper than he intended. He resolves to act friendlier.

When the receptionist calls them in, she wiggles out of his hand; she may lose oxygen if he continues to press. She assumes the position that the obstetrician suggests, and waits for the examination to begin. She doesn't flinch when the cool cream hits her stomach, her eyes on the sonogram machine.

"You're about twelve weeks along, so far so good."

"Do you want to know the sex?"

"No, we'd like to be surprised," Noah responded but then caught a wind of the expression on Rachel's face, "I mean, if that's fine with you," he adds hastily.

She debates telling him that she was already aware of the baby's sex but she keeps her mouth shut. She knows her words will cause more damage than good if Noah discovered that Finn was privy to that information first.

"No, that's fine. I'm not concerned with gender as long as the baby is healthy."

Noah grins at her, dropping a kiss on her forehead, and Rachel feels the warmth of the lies on her tongue. She crosses her fingers behind her back and hopes he doesn't discover the truth.

AN: So, Rachel is still skinny for the most part. When my mom was pregnant, she was walking around in a bikini at eight months. No one had any idea she was pregnant so Rachel being skinny isn't too far fetched.


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